Soft Kitty, Warm Kitty
by ILikeInappropriateThings
Summary: Shotafic! Psychishipping. Marik has a cat, he is named Bakura. Bakura likes to cause mischief, never bothering about the consquences, till the Egyptian one day snaps. I can't write summaries. And yes, the title is very silly. Dark, angsty.
1. Chapter 1

HEY GUYS I'M NOT DEAD! And for those who listen to my shitty ramblings on a regular basis, you'd know I have been fiddling around with a Shotacon one shot. And here it is! I actually managed to screw up psychoshipping so badly that I could make shota out of it! (For those who do not like shota, please leave, and for those who don't know what it is-G-O-O-G-L-E is your friend! :D)

Kay, so, I feel like the world needs more fics where Bakura is completely trampled to oblivion. Why yes, I am somewhat twisted, but it's just a terrible kink of mine D: I can't help it. And besides, the world needed more psychoshipping too, so I've written that too!  
>And yes, Bakura will be "ooc", but I don't really care, because everything which is not in the actual story line, is technically out of character. I'm just warning people before hand, and before they start bitching at me. Very well. i'll go on with the warnings then!<p>

Also, this story is a rape fic. Yes, Bakura is the uke, and he will not be going "GIVE IT TO ME LIKE I'M A RABBIT"-Anytime soon. Thank you very much!

Warnings!: Harmartophilia (Committing sinful acts), Parthenphilia (Sex with virgins), Gerontophilia (Older partner), Shotacon (Younger partner), Rape, Molestation, Cat ears and tail, PWP, Somewhat Squick I guess, **Marik's delicious toungue**, Mind fuck, Father/Son relationship, Master/Slave relationship, Mentions of spanking, Mentions of human slavery, Angst, Violence, A few drops of blood, somewhat crossdressing, humilation, a little torture, bondage, domestic violence, a bit dark I assume, smut, childlike minds...I think that's it. I may have skipped a few, but, man, there are so many!

Disclaimer: Hai, my name is obsessive fan nr xxxxxxx, I've written a fanfiction. I don't get paid. It could be cool, but I don't, and also, I didn't create Yugioh!

I think I'm done now, with my ranting. So, onwards with the story, the lemon is in next chapter!

* * *

><p><em>Soft kitty, warm kitty<em>  
><em> Little ball of furr<em>  
><em> Lazy kitty, pretty kitty<em>  
><em> purr, purr, purr<em>

A pair of soft brown eyes scanned the quiet and dark area, their owner gently holding onto the doorframe. He bend over, tugging in one kneesock uncertainly. With a weak gaze, the young child determinly walked silently across the floor, to the large canopy bed. Swallowing, he reached down, hesitating, and rustled the sleeping figure on the shoulder. When he recieved no response, the boy's ears drooped, and he carefully, but surely climbed up, next to the mess of dirty blond hair.

Pulling the covers slowly over himself and proceeding to lay as still as possible, the little creature stared at the ceiling, waiting. A moment later, the other male stirred, first a soft groan, then he let out a yawn. And after that, came the boys name.

"...Bakura?"

Yes, the little creature, barely 14 of age, was named Bakura. The older man at his side was Marik Ishtar, his first and only owner.

Turning to face the Egyptian, Bakura carefully shuffled closer and nuzzled into the warmth of the others chest.

"What is it?" He was asked, and remaining silent for moment, the small cat pulled up his knees with a low whine.

"I had a bad dream." Bakura finally whispered, his voice broken and scared. The Egyptian sighed deeply, and hooked an arm under the lithe body beside him. He pulled the cat onto his chest, closing his eyes and buried his fingers in the white tresses.

"You can sleep here." Marik stated, and the boy slowly laid his head, relaxing once again. But he didn't rest like he was told, instead he spent his time watching his Master. The tip of his tail swished from side to side as he stared, a finger tracing the black marks on the other's face loosely. He stuck a foot out from underneath the sheets, too warm to sleep yet, and manouvered one of the Egyptians palms around his waist. A warm feeling settling itself in the youths gut, Bakura snuggled up to the older man as much as he knew was allowed, trying to get some rest.

It was difficult however, when he was aware of just how annoyed his Master was with him. Marik had always told him to stay in his room at night, and not to bother him, but sometimes, it just happened. His feet would move on their own, and he was already in the Egyptian's chambers before he knew it. He was only lucky that Marik was so overbearing and usually forgot about these things during a small amount of time, or he would've gotten in trouble too often.

Frowning, the cat mentally scolded himself. He knew very well that his Master needed to rest, just like he did, and surely, being awakened in the middle of the night wasn't one of his favourite things. He'd never been rejected by the Egyptian though, but he was well aware that Marik didn't like it when he needed to lay with him. Bakura did however.

It gave a feeling of safety and comfort, and somewhere along the way, he'd always fall asleep, happy that Marik would still be there when he woke up.

Unfortunately, there hadn't ever been a case where the Egyptian was still with him the next morning, and today was no different.

And even if there might have been an urge to be angry with the older man, Bakura didn't say anything, he merely sat up, staring into nothing in particular. Then, the little cat climbed out of the bed and rubbed his eyes absently as he walked into the hall. Walking down the split stairs, he glanced hungrily at the bassin of koi karps at the end, as he headed restlessly for the living room. Bakura announced his pressence with a short purr, his tail swaying eagerly behind him when his eyes met with those of his owner. A faint, warm look of recognition appeared on the Egyptian's face, before he set aside his book and offered the young teen his complete attention.

"Good morning." He murmered, patting the spot next to him on the couch. Without needing to be asked, the cat quickly tugged up in his loose socks, shuffled along the floor and plopped down at his Masters side. Bakura sighed delightfully, leaning up against the Egyptian, who'd already picked his book up again. Closing his eyes, he let the tip of his tail wag back and forth playfully, while his palms laid folded on the older mans lap.

"Are you going to be sitting here for long?" Marik finally questioned him after a while, sounding interested. The cat nodded eagerly, his arms snaking around the others waist needingly.

"Hm. By the time I reach the next chapter, I want you to be bathed and in clean clothes Bakura. It's your choice from here on then."

Turning to look at the Egyptian's newfound interest, Bakura cracked a mischievious smile.

"How many pages do I have?" He asked softly, surprised that the other began to flip through the pages, searching for the bold letters that highlighted next chapter.

"About 27 and a half. So don't be cheeky with me, and get to it, right?" Marik demanded, a hand combing through the cat's silken locks. It stayed there, and the young teen tilted his head back.

"I like being here with you." He protested halfheartedly, the authority of his Master being too much to cross. Marik was a patient and stoic person, but the cat knew better than to defy him, he'd learnt that the very first day they met. It'd been by coincedence of course, he hadn't always lived with Marik, but it was close. The older man had happened to walk by Bakura's broker on the dingy part of town, and was persuaded into looking closer, despite the Egyptian having no intent of buying anything.

Unfortunately, the look Bakura had given him when their eyes had met in a split second, was enough to change his mind. He'd clawed out through the bars of his cage, keening and mewing as the Egyptian had reached in and gently stroked his cheek. Marik had then demanded that the little kit was let out, no matter the price, though the broker had tried to palm other cats off on him, more expensive ones. Upset, that his yet-to-be Master had been offered other merchandise than himself, Bakura had desperately tried to earn his attention, wanting to be taken home.

To his luck, Marik was more than satisfied with the young cat, and with a tiny death-threat lingering in the air, had the broker unlock the desired cage. Bakura had clung to the older man for the rest of the time, when he laid money on the table, till he was put to bed. The little cat hadn't been used to so much silence in the night, or so much space, and eventually, he'd upset himself to tears. To his surprise, his new Master hadn't been angry with him, no, he'd just picked him up and taken him back to his bedroom. Though the incident at the brokers had been quite terrifying, the kitten hadn't felt a need to be downright afraid of the Egyptian, and merely enjoyed the warmth he radiated.

Stopping himself in his musings, the cat stretched out, a soft purr emitting from his throat. It'd been 8 years ago since Marik took him in, and nothing had really changed. The mansion was the same, with large victorian inspired rooms with alot of space to the ceiling, Marik seemed to like that. Bakura didn't mind them, he liked to spend his time sitting on the bookshelves in the libary, though the Egyptian didn't always approve of his games.

Honestly, Marik probably didn't approve of most of the things he spent his time with. When he was bored, he'd annoy the fish in the hall, by dipping his tail in and stirring, till he was busted. Or he'd sit in the living room and knead into the fluffy pillows, gradually caressing them to thin threads. At times like those, it only took 'the stare' from he was caught in the act, till he stopped. The cat wasn't sure what would happen if he'd contiue, but one only made that mistake one time, merely for a thrill.

Yes, Marik was patient, and he never did hurt him, however, there was the 'discipline', and Bakura wasn't so keen on that. So naturally, the cat stayed out of trouble whenever his Master was near, that way staying out of being beaten.

Frowning from his own thoughts, the young teen pushed himself up and relucantly sauntered out, heading towards the bathroom. He made a brief stop at the koi karps, having to bite his lips to keep from following his instincts. But he forced them into the back of his mind, patting down the hall with the intents of doing what he always did in the bathtub when he got there.

Wait around for Marik to come and dry him off.

It was the best part about getting wet, Bakura mused to himself, the tip of his tail flicking happily back and forth. And it couldn't possibly be long, he'd already washed his hair, scrubbed every inch of his body and even saved his Master from getting a towel ready. But he didn't come in on time, so, naturally, the little cat meekly stepped out of the large tub, threw the fluffy comforter around his shoulders and let his tail bristle testingly.

Curious as to why the Egyptian hadn't joined him yet, Bakura set off back into the hall, the cold floor quickening his pace. He mewed uncertainly, assured that it had to give some sort of reaction. Wetting his lips, the young teen tried to remain stoic as he passed the koi karps on his way to the living room. Bakura clutched his towel, tipped his head slightly to the side and mewled needingly, wanting attention. The fact that he was drenched and dripped onto the floor, gave the cat slight hopes that his Master would notice his own abscence.

Fortunately for the cat, his trick worked, and soon the Egyptian rose from his spot without looking up, set the book aside and slowly walked to his side. He didn't speak, he merely grabbed Bakura by his shoulders, nudging down the sides gently, and smiled lazily when the cat bit his lips.

See, Bakura didn't like bathing. He liked being dried off, but then again-he didn't. It was complicated. It didn't bother him as Marik rubbed along his sides, and stomach to get him dry, it was when he reached his hips and legs it felt odd, and made him slightly dizzy. His face always grew warm too, like when he had a fever, but always disappeared as soon as the hands did.

Soon enough, his flustered expression got the best of Marik like always, and he glanced up, an eyebrow raised slightly.

"Is anything on your mind?" He asked quietly, resuming his actions as the cat shook his head wildly in denial.

"I'm just hungry." Bakura finally murmered, fairly aware that he wasn't meant to lie to his Master. But he didn't know how Marik would react to the blushing, or what it meant, however, he'd rather keep it to himself, till it wore off.

Getting back onto his feet, the Egyptian rubbed down Bakura's shoulders, ruffling the towel through his hair a couple of times before he placed a soft kiss in it, lingering.

"Hmm, want some milk then?" Marik muttered indifferently, releasing the cat and left him for a moment. Meanwhile, Bakura nervously bit the edge of his towel, the air nipping at his bare skin by now, including the goosebumps he got from lying. He shifted about, ears perking when he saw the Egyptian return with clean clothes and eagerly dropped the towel, tail flicking about. Swallowing hard, the cat quickly pulled on the grey shirt, tugging it down below his knees. Marik lifted one of the young teens feet, urging him to put on the black shorts he'd brought along.

And even if he wanted to hurry and please his Master by doing as he was told, it was still difficult without tripping, when he couldn't coil his tail around anything to support himself. Nevertheless, the little cat gently clamped his palms around the others shoulders, stepping into them. He stood still, trying to remain stoic, but couldn't help the slight flinch that coursed through his body when Marik tugged the smooth fabric up his hips. To avoid having to explain the reaction, Bakura let his knees give away, holding onto the Egyptian. A soft mewl escaped his lips, that he desperately tried to cover with his arm, but Marik still seemed unfazed.

"Put these on and go to the living room, I'll give you something to eat if you're just patient." He was asked and handed a pair of silken socks that he hurriedly slipped on, while Marik went to retrieve him his late breakfast. As he fought to maintain his balance, the cat grabbed at the doorframe, looking up in frustration and let his tail swish agitated behind him. His main concern had been slipping on the marble flooring, but as soon as his fluffy tail knocked into something, he quickly turned his attention downward, eyeing a few pieces of porcelain. He never got the time to fuss about how much of a klutz he was, before he was met with a soft groan.

"Bakura, I shouldn't even have to explain why this is making me slightly irritated." Marik said, his voice calm and collected, but Bakura knew he was close to snapping. He bowed his head and clutched the bottom of his shirt, needing something to hold onto as the Egyptian approached him with long determined strides. Whining in the back of his throat and preparing for the scolding, Bakura mumbled an incomprehensible excuse. There was a moment of silence between them, and when it became apparent that there were no punishment yet, he glanced up, repeating his apology.

"I didn't notice it before it was too late." He muttered, flinching as a hand grabbed him by the shoulder and tugged him away from the broken vase. Sending the cat an indifferent look, Marik leant down casually, picking up a large, sharp piece of porcelain and studied it briefly.

"You didn't want to fall, so you decided it'd be better to hold onto a fragile, irreplaceable ming vase for support? It's the only proper explanation, unless you were inconsiderate of your surroundings yet again. And it certainly wouldn't surprise me. So, how is it that you see it acceptable to destroy my things?" The Egyptian inquired, dropping the piece to the floor, inches from the teens feet.

"I don't. I just-" Bakura began, cut off by the older man.

"No, you don't 'just' do anything around these things. It may not look like it and it may not mean much to you, but it's an expensive item, and I don't want you breaking anymore worth value. Understood?"

Without an answer, the cat merely nodded, appreciative that his Master had sorted to the lecture this time. He knew that no matter how many things Marik owned, he'd always want more, be it books, vases or paintings. It didn't make much sense to Bakura however, but it seemed to matter to the Egyptian, though he'd never understood what money meant, and how much they were worth.

"Good, now move, or you'll get the shards up your feet." Marik announced, picking up the cat with ease and placed him on the bottom of the stairs. He snapped once, pointing to the second story. "And go to your room, I have other things to do."

Bakura didn't need to be told twice, and he hurriedly made his way upstairs, turning to the right and went to his own room, like he was ordered. Once inside, he pushed the door closed, patting to the bed and snuggled under the sheets, guilt welling up in his stomach. He hated having to look at Marik when he'd done something wrong, even if it wasn't on purpose. It just happened too often lately. Whenever he had his Master around, he became so distraught and skittish. And that odd fuzzy feeling in his gut didn't help either. It felt wrong - not the exciting wrong, but...Scary-Wrong.

Licking his lips absently, Bakura curled up within himself, confused. He didn't understand the sudden obsession with his own Master, why it felt so wrong, but still intriguing when he was touched by him. There was no denying that he liked to be pampered and spoiled, but something in the back of his mind, told him that he shouldn't be. He sat up slowly, intending to go downstairs and apoligize so he could get over with the guilt. Surely, Marik couldn't have forgiven him yet, but trying to make him was always an opportunity.

Bakura quietly patted out his room, stopping in the hall to listen for the Egyptian. There wasn't any swearing or cursing going on, so he decided to try and soothe the older man, one way or another. His tail flicked about lazily as he walked, and he sent an indifferent look at the koi karps again, like he always did. This time however, hunger had driven the cat closer to the edge of the bassin and he stared at the large fish, suddenly feeling curious as to how he'd go about getting one out. Looking over the back of his shoulder, Bakura noticed that all the glass shards were gone and a shiver of relief ran down his spine. He couldn't be in that much trouble anymore.

Leaning over the ledge of the bassin, Bakura clenched and unclenched his fists, unsure of what to do. There were so many karps, no one would notice a single one missing. And they looked so deliciously tempting. He glanced back one more time, slightly paranoid. Those fish were expensive too, like the vase, or at least, that's what Marik told him. It sounded true though, they were all so shiny, large and had pretty patterns, scaringly symmetric patterns.

The cat sighed, ignoring his stomach rumbling slightly and reached down, touching a white and red karp with the tip of his fingers. It felt smooth, cold and this only fueled his instincts further. He sucked in a portion of air, took aim at a goodlooking one and swiped down, missing it by an inch. Bakura mentally frowned, needing to take another try, it wasn't enough yet.

With a determined look on his face, Bakura leant down again, grabbing one with surprising ease and brought it out of the water. The fish squirmed and flailed desperately, bringing up a desire the cat rarely felt. His fingers tightened around his prey, knowing he was to either bite, or squeeze the life out of it. But still, something in the back of his mind told him to be careful, and thus, the cat hesitated briefly, staring at his prey in confusion. It wasn't for long however, since the scent of it drew him closer and closer, till he felt his mouth open up, and lock around it. The taste wasn't as good as he'd expected, but the feel was. He bit down hard, pulling back with his palms and ripped the head off quite easily, satisfied as he chewed away.

Bakura held the fish in one hand, a shiver running down his spine as the last spasms coursed through the now, headless animal. He leant onto the ledge, turning the fish upside down and allowed a few drops of surprisingly clear blood to pour into the water. It wasn't enough to permanently spoil the water, but it was enough to draw more curious fish to the surface. The cat wasn't interested anymore though, his hunger had been settled for now. He chomped into the cold meat, blood staining his lips and lower part of his shirt, but he didn't care, he could change. It tasted better with every bite, mostly because of the little 'hunt' and because of the danger he'd put himself in. If Marik noticed, he'd be sure to punish him one way or another, or, just let him go with a warning if he was lucky.

Taking another large bite of his fish, Bakura stared at the other ones, wondering how they'd react to one of their lifelong friends being eaten in front of them. He doubted they'd mourn though, fish had never proven themselves very emotional creatures either way. Smiling timidly by his own selfishness, the cat carefully nibbled the skin of his fish, peeling it halfway down in a playful pace. He ripped if off completely, chewing on it and liking the feel of tiny, slippery scales on his toungue. The taste had increasingly gotten better by now, though it was mostly bloody, greasy and slightly salty. Licking off a small amount of water off his lips, and whiping them in his shirt, he chewed on the middle body of his fish, restless. The adrenaline had slowly worn off, and he was getting a bit more paranoid by now.

It wasn't enough to make him stop however, and when eventually finished, he reached down, snatching another fish and felt a sudden tinge of excitment in his chest. This one flailed even more than the other, and he had slight difficulties to hold it still long enough to bite over it. He suceeded in the end, locking his mouth around most of the head and let his jaws snap together tightly. As soon as his teeth made contact with the poor fish, it immediatly stopped moving altogether, hanging limply in the cat's palms. Bakura chewed quickly, feeling a bit twitchy and nervous by now. The thrill hadn't worn off yet, but it was mixing with the fear of Marik noticing a few fish had disappeared. It was too risky, he soon decided, and the cat needingly took one last bite before he'd-

"What the **hell **do you think you're doing!"

The shock itself was enough to make Bakura yelp and drop his halfeaten fish into the water. He stayed quiet for several moments, never having heard such anger in the Egyptian's voice ever before, and the sound alone frightened him beyond belief.

His mouth opened and closed countless times, but nothing came out. He could hear heavy footsteps behind him, and even though he wanted to turn around, he was frozen on the spot, till his shoulder was grasped roughly and he was turned to face the Egyptian's furious form. Marik glared at him, eyes briefly flicking behind him to the floating corpse of a fish. Before Bakura could even stutter out an excuse, the angered Egyptian burrowed his nails deep into the cat, pulling a frightened cry from his lips.

"I asked-What the do you think you're doing!" Bakura flinched, both from pain and Marik's sudden rage. If he'd ever been afraid, it was nothing compared to now, he'd never been handled that way.

"I-I-" The cat began, cut off by his own throat snaring up on him. Marik snarled something incomprehensible, seemed to be driven by anger, and grasped the cat's upper arms, bruising them.

"Tell me how you thought you could just 'eat' from there! Now!" The older man spat, not bothering to wait for his answer before he backhanded the teen hard across the face, gripping him so tightly it was the only thing that kept him from falling.

Bakura gasped in a mix between fear, and shock, but not surprise. Even though the Egyptian had promised to cherise him, and to never harm him like that, it didn't surprise him. He'd always been tempered, and he'd managed to stir up the bad sides of him, ones he couldn't talk or cuddle his way out of. But despite of his lack of surprise, it still hurt, it hurt terribly.

The cat parted his lips, struggling to speak as he clutched his cheek in selfpity. His fingers, his shoulders, even his legs trembled and his throat seemed much tighter than it should.

"Bakura. If you don't speak right now I'll-" Marik grit out, stopping midsentence when the little cat whimpered. He grasped him by the jaw, turning his face up to meet his. Bakura closed his eyes tightly, hoping to prevent the tears that rose to the surface, but it didn't help.

"I-I'm-" The cat croaked countless times, before he realized that it was pointless and when he felt Marik squeeze together, he fell into a torrent of desperate whines.

"Stop crying!" The Egyptian barked, once again striking the little cat, this time sending him to the floor instead. Bakura laid sprawled out for a short moment, heaving as he broke into tears, sobbing violently. He curled up his knees, crying harder than he thought possible. And despite his attempts to quieten himself, it didn't work, he just couldn't stop.

"Get up Bakura." Marik suddenly muttered, his voice straining to sound calm. Wincing and nodding vigourously, Bakura rolled around, pushing to his feet and looked down in shame. He clamped his lips together, hoping to cease his crying, but his efforts were futile. Sobbing and whimpering quietly, the cat hugged his arms, scared of what was yet to come.

"Look at me." The older man demanded, and Bakura forced himself to look up, meeting the others gaze. His lips quivered, and he had to bite them to keep them still.

"Now stop your crying."

Nodding numbly, Bakura obeyed his Master again, supressing the tears till they pooled in his eyes, waiting to be shed.

"And now, you can tell me why you ate one of my fish, despite how many times I've told you to stay away!" Marik snapped, looking like he was having trouble with not slapping him again.

"I don't know." Bakura whispered painfully, a tear escaping and rolling down his cheek, onto his lips, then to the floor.

"You don't know. You don't know why you just ate fish worth more than yourself!" The Egyptian growled, unawaringly piercing through the young teens heart with mere words.

Trembling uncontrollably, Bakura tried to remain understanding. Even if he'd just been compared to a patterned fish. He nodded, tears now running freely down his face, silently dropping to the floor, pooling at his feet.

"You **stupid **little **pest.** You keep pushing my limits, by breaking my things, and I'm too naive to think that it would change. I thought I'd be able to alter you, but I guess I was wrong... Or perhaps I just haven't been using the right methods..." Marik said quietly, sounding angry, but at least more collected than before. Unconciously twitching and murmering apoligies over and over again, the little cat gently stroked his sore cheek, trembling down to his fingers. He heard the Egyptian let out a low growl in frustration, whipping around and storm out of the room, leaving him alone. Bakura breathed out shakily, gingerly rubbing his shoulder as some sort of comfort. It felt tempting to go upstairs and cry out the fear, but if the Egyptian ever intended to return, he'd be in for more if he wasn't there.

Sitting down on the floor, Bakura combed through his hair with his fingers, attempting to steady his breathing again, and stop the tears. He swallowed hard, coughing when he felt a need to sob, to keep a low profile. The cat wasn't sure how long he waited, but eventually, when his Master finally made an apperance again, his eyes had turned back to their original stoic state.

He curled up into himself, believing that Marik would pass him and leave upstairs, but he didn't. The Egyptian approached him, and when they were a few feet apart, he knelt down to his level, reached out and urged him to look up. Bakura felt his chest tighten up, to the point where he had to gasp to breathe. Wrapping his fingers around the cat's shoulders, the Egyptian waited as Bakura flinched and eventually tugged him to his chest. Bakura croaked, not sure what was going on, and tried to keep from grasping at the older man in need. He breathed in, clenching and unclenching his fists for quite some time, before Marik made the first move and stood up, bringing the cat with him.

"Stop your crying." Marik ordered quietly, taking the cat off his feet and cradled him in his arms. Nodding numbly, the young teen obeyed, remaining stiff in the others embrace. It was too difficult to speak, the shock still evident in his system, so the cat stayed silent torn between wanting comfort, and wanting to get away. But since his Master had decided to apoligize in his own way, he'd just accept it, and wait till he could be alone. Not that it'd require much from now on.

"I didn't mean to." Bakura whispered, arching against the palm that came to stroke his hair. He did his best to purr and sound pleased, but it was much harder than he'd thought at first.

"You didn't mean to?" The older man countered, his voice antagonizing to him.

"I didn't mean to do it. It wasn't on purpose..." He whined hopelessly, allowing the Egyptian to rub his back. It both soothed him, and sent chills down his spine, but he didn't object, fear getting the best of him.

"It's okay, calm down..." Marik cooed to him, nuzzling him behind the ears and doing all sorts of things that usually made the cat relax again. Bakura shivered and quivered, wanting a break from touching anyone, emitting his dismay in soft, unpleased sounds, but his efforts were futile.

"I'm sorry." He whimpered, his toes curling from an unfamiliar feeling, running along the rim of his shirt. Marik hummed, nuzzling his neck affectionately, and clutched a handful of his hair.

"I know you are, my little kitten, I know you are." The older man murmered overbearingly, and Bakura mentally flinched from the posessive form of his name. He'd always just been 'Bakura' to him.

"Hmm, you need to be cleaned. We can't have you wandering around, all bloody, now can we?" Marik said, leaving no time for negotiation as he began to whipe the blood off Bakura's lips and neck. He rested his forehead against the cat's, circling the thin cloth along his jaw and contiued slowly towards an exposed collarbone. The first thing that sprung to Bakura's mind was how creepingy close they were, then, why on earth Marik felt a need to clean him off right there.

Grunting in discomfort, Bakura squirmed when a finger traced along a shoulder, down beneath his shirt. He shivered, an odd sound escaping his lips and Marik chuckled, close to a laugh. Finding the gesture and situation extremely unnerving, the cat parted his lips to object, interupted by a sharp pinch on his calf. Marik didn't speak however, he merely nuzzled his neck, too close to his throat for his liking.

"M-M-Stop..Stop Marik, stop." Bakura pleaded, his body buckling in an attempt to make the other let go. The Egyptian responded by laughing this time, a hand squeezing the cat's side teasingly and sliding beneath his shirt. Panickstruck, the little cat cried out, gripping at the tan palms desperately.

"Hm. After what you did it's not fair for you to give commands, do you think?" Marik hummed, giving the cat a kiss on the cheek. He lingered, gently biting down.

Bakura's heart nearly skipped a beat, and he yelped, shying away quickly. The feeling was so foreign, close to disgusting. He didn't like Marik's new form for comfort at all, he wanted it to **stop.**

And while the cat was trying to avoid this new sort of affection, the Egyptian was indulging in it.

Marik smiled against the pale skin, releasing all his pent up lust and desire on the little cat, fondling and stroking him. He'd waited so long, each day more stressful and agitating than the other. The Egyptian had never thought it possible to develop certain 'needs' towards the kitten he'd gotten years ago, for purposes he couldn't remember. But it was indeed, very possible. He'd always seen him as his own needy and annoying child, but by the time his early teens had rolled around, it became much different. The cat had begun to emit a delicious musky scent, like every other young adult, and it was hypnotizing. It made Marik want him. Wanted him as much as he'd wanted to take care of him back when he was just an oblivious child, unaware of the world.

His body had changed too, only fueling the Egyptian's desire. Despite being far shorter than most of his age, Bakura had been rewarded with beautiful and clean features, ones that resembled those of angels. And he'd always been so responsive to petting and simple gestures, Marik had blamed that on his attachment towards him. But when he'd later realized he wanted Bakura in his bed because of other reasons than nightmares, he began to think that maybe there was more than just childish affection.

Somewhere along the way, he knew it was a stupid theory, Bakura had only been introduced to unconditional love, he couldn't be aware of his hidden desires. If he knew the things he'd wanted to do to him, he doubted Bakura would even think about setting a foot in his bed ever again, no matter how bad his nightmares were. At times like those, he appreciated the fact that he was still just the cat's 'Master', and nothing more.

Sometimes though, he wished he could've just acted on impulse like he currently was, instead of being such a coward. There was nothing to be afraid of, even now he was proving it, those sounds that his kitten made weren't those of the unwilling, **surely**. It was obvious to anyone who'd seen Bakura, that he wasn't just one to throw out, he was a 'keeper' and Marik intended to keep him. He wanted so badly to make him scream and cry, wrap his legs around him, and the sheer thought had countless times given him an excuse to leave Bakura early in the morning.

But despite of his current efforts, he couldn't help but notice the slight resistance he met when he tried to show him the cat just how much he wanted him. He knew very well that Bakura did too, but there had to be something wrong since he seemed so distraught. It couldn't be the scolding, he was used to that, so what was it?

Meanwhile the Egyptian was trying to come up with a simple conclusion, the little cat was struggling not to bite at the other's face. He felt so torn between his decisions, should he just lash out and deny whatever the older man wanted, or put up with it, and avoid further arguement. Somehow, it seemed most safe to just go along with the torment, but most tempting to throw a fit and be let go of. He wasn't sure what to decide, but he knew it had to be quick, because what Marik's intensions were, he was very determined. The cat whined hopelessly, grabbing at the other's wrists in an attempt to keep the hand from slipping up under his shirt to play with his nipples. It was so foreign, and honestly, Bakura had found them to be quite useless, up until now.

"Don't struggle so much, I don't want to drop you." Marik murmered heatedly against his neck, turning his head forcefully to kiss him full on the lips. Panicking even more by the sudden intimacy, the cat screamed, the sound muffled into the kiss. He fought momentarily with himself, wether to hit the Egyptian or not, his earlier sorrow induced tears replaced with those of fear. His nails dug into the older man's shoulders, in an attempt to make him let go, but nothing helped, Marik was dead set on kissing him. And since fighting him wasn't helping, the cat chose to ask him to stop instead, it'd be more rational.

"Mnn-Marik, stop,-I don't like it." He wheezed, his throat sore from crying.

Unfortunately, his pleads were told to deaf ears, and Marik proceeded whatever he was doing, with a passion Bakura had never seen.

"I said stop, please!" The teen repeated once more, silenced by another kiss. His eyes screwed shut and he tensed completely, his feelings conflicted into oblivion. He couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that Marik was the one making him sad, and not the one comforting him, and it hurt to admit.

"Shh, it's okay to be scared..." Marik murmered nonchalantly, hand running through Bakura's hair and tugging in it, all the while grinning devlishly. The Egyptian hummed, pinching a rosy nipple beyond the point of painful, rubbing down the cat's sides as compensation. He chuckled, letting the same hand slide leisurely into the teen's shorts, too close to his privates for Bakura's liking.

"N-No, not there, please Marik." Bakura begged endlessly, gripping so hard at the Egyptian's shoulders he was sure to leave marks. The fingers inched playfully towards him, making his heart beat faster than he'd ever thought it could. He briefly considered just going with the flow until-

"Yes, there." The Egyptian urged him into something he didn't want.

Clenching his fists in less than a second, Bakura barely got to think to twice before his body reacted on it's own as he elbowed the older man square in the jaw, throwing them both off balance.

Recovering as fast as possible, the little cat scrabbled to his feet, not sure where to go, but his instincts told him – Out. However, being young and naive, Bakura chose the more reasonable option. He leapt over the fuming Egyptian who clutched the side of his face and snarled obceneties at him, stepping away from him and cried, not sure why.

Bakura drew in a couple of shaky breaths, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand as he twitched all the way to the tip of his tail. For a single, stupid moment, the cat had somehow thought it was over, that Marik had realized he'd crossed some sort of line neither were aware of, but unfortunately it was from it.

"Hmm..." Marik moaned in slight pain as he gathered himself again, sitting up and staring at the cat. "Come over here, I'm not finished. And after that little trick you pulled, we won't be anytime soon." He puntuctated the last few words harshly, glaring at the cowering youth.

"No, I don't-" Bakura began, cut off by the sudden jerk when Marik moved forward, and he jumped back.

"Then I'll come and get you." The Egyptian seethed, slowly trying to get back on his feet, and made the cat seek distance once more. Growing desperate in his actions, Bakura reeled to think of an idea to either calm the older man, or get away from him. As soon as he noticed Marik had come back to his proper senses, he chose the more foolish option, letting the conversation die out as he bolted towards the stairs. He forced his ears to ignore the threats that the Egyptian threw at him, running as fast he could, away from Marik, but for nothing else in particular. Reaching the top of the stairs, Bakura glanced down briefly, definitely not liking the look in those purple orbs.

"Come down here Bakura, I won't say it again." Marik demanded, his voice straining to remain calm, but before he was finished, the little cat was out of sight.

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><p>Like I said-Lemon is next up!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

So, for those who survived and made it to the next chapter of my long shot, enjoy the lemon! I apoligize for it's shittiness!

Also, this story is a rape fic. Yes, Bakura is the uke, and he will not be going "GIVE IT TO ME LIKE I'M A RABBIT"-Anytime soon. Thank you very much!

**Warnings!**: Harmartophilia (Committing sinful acts), Parthenphilia (Sex with virgins), Gerontophilia (Older partner), Shotacon (Younger partner), Rape, Molestation, Cat ears and tail, PWP, Somewhat Squick I guess, **Marik's delicious toungue**, Mind fuck, Father/Son relationship, Master/Slave relationship, Mentions of spanking, Mentions of human slavery, Angst, Violence, A few drops of blood, somewhat crossdressing, humilation, a little torture, bondage, domestic violence, a bit dark I assume, smut, childlike minds...I think that's it. I may have skipped a few, but, man, there are so many!

**Disclaimer**: Hai, my name is obsessive fan nr xxxxxxx, I've written a fanfiction. I don't get paid. It could be cool, but I don't, and also, I didn't create Yugioh!

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><p>Tearing down the hall in his newfound fear, Bakura aimed for his own room, leaping over a large pile of discarded stuffed animals. Diving to the floor and nugding himself under the bed, he curled together, realizing too late that this plan wasn't going to work out. However, changing them was also too late, and if he kept quiet, maybe, just maybe Marik would cool down, he always did.<p>

Bakura breathed in, careful not to make a sound and clutched one of the stray animals beneath his bed protectively. He nuzzled the fuzzy mane timidly, patiently awaiting his Master, and hoped that it wouldn't be right away.

Hugging the catlike creature, a lion, to his stomach, Bakura swallowed hard in uncertain fear. There was nothing, except for the worst scolding ever, his mind could produce as some sort of punishment for hitting Marik. He'd never done that, and Marik hadn't ever hit him, it had just been discipline. Sure, if he misbehaved, there'd be a bit pain, but was nothing like what had just happened. This was new, and it wasn't a good new. Bakura kneaded the furry mane beneath his fingers, trying to understand why he'd suddenly deserved a new type of punishment, but no matter how much he strained his mind, he couldn't. You turned against your Master, you'd be scolded, you disobeyed, you'd be sent upstairs, or if you broke something, you'd be spanked, Bakura had that sorted out just **fine.** But as much as he wanted Marik to just treat him like that, this wasn't the case.

Brows furrowing in confusion, Bakura pressed himself into the wall beneath his bed, shifting so that he could glance out towards the door. Nothing had happened so far, and the mansion was disturbingly quiet. He nervously pet the lion, forcing himself to think of something else, and wondered briefly how big one of those cats actually were. It was an 'exotic' animal, like the karps Marik had. Bakura squeezed it gently, happy that the stuffed creature wouldn't object to his tight hug. He honestly liked them, even the lion, though he had a small bunny that he was especially fond of, but when he left in the night, he rarely brought them into Marik's bedroom. But he still liked them, alot.

The little cat curled up his legs, his grasp tightening on the poor lion when he heard heavy footsteps on the stairs outside. He swallowed a whine, panic rising inside him already and he clenched his fists as the loud thumps came closer, and sweat gathered in his palms. Eventually, the sounds stopped, and he could see the outline of a certain Egyptian in his doorframe.

"Bakura!" Marik snarled, moving out of sight, and broke something that made Bakura flinch. It sounded like glass. Staying as quiet as he possibly could, Bakura listened to the Egyptian ranting, and breaking whatever was within his reach.

"Bakura, I know you're in this house somewhere! It may not be in here, but you wouldn't run away!" The older man announced angrily, walking to the left side of the bed. Bakura shifted silently, watching the others movements carefully, eyes widening in fear when he saw fingertips grazing across the floor.

"It's not worth hiding." He said loudly, and even though Bakura knew he'd be found somewhere along the way, he wouldn't willingly go out there. He'd stay still.

"But if you want me to get even angrier with you, that's alright." Marik said, a light sigh escaping him. Bakura noticed that he suddenly changed directions, as if going for something, and he shifted to keep an eye on him. The older male proceeded towards his little pile of stuffed animals, kneeling down and gingerly grabbing Bakura's bunny. Frowning, the cat contiued to watch, wondering what was going to happen, till Marik stood back up, and it was left to his imagination.

"You know what? I'm kind of bugged by the price of your lunch today. And I'm honestly quite puzzled as to how I'm going to teach you not to touch my fish again, because they're very expensive Bakura. However, I think I have an idea." The Egyptian trailed off, and Bakura suddenly felt a thick, cold lump in his throat.

"It's not much, but I know just how attached you are to this inanimate critter here. I think I should show you exactly what happens when you oppose me you like you did today." He finished, and a soft, short rip of fabric informed Bakura that his little bunny had just been taken from him. Biting his lips hard, he tried to ignore the pain in his chest when a brown, fuzzy body fell to the floor, followed by the tiny head with two floppy ears.

"Even if you didn't this watch this, I'm still quite satisfied now. Almost so satisfied that I'll forget about how much you disappointed me today...-But I did get very sad, so maybe this just won't suffice." Marik muttered, and a few seconds later, the head of a stuffed cat dropped onto the floor, staring directly at Bakura, through black bead eyes.

For several moments, Marik walked around the upper floor, calling for the cat and trying to lure him out, while Bakura remained safely hidden under his bed. Since the Egyptian had left the first time, he'd merely stayed still, watching his treasured little bunny in two pieces just a few feet away. It just lied there, discarded and looked lonely. He wanted to crawl out and cuddle it, but the fear of Marik returning, kept him from it and he settled by staring at it. There was something that told him that whatever Marik had in mind, it wasn't going to be good, and somehow, he was grateful that he wasn't that bunny.

Bakura relaxed for a short while, tensing up suddenly, when he heard Marik's footsteps approaching the room once again. He wasn't sure how, but he could sense the determination in the Egyptian, and he knew he was going to be found this time.

"Bakura, since you didn't come out the first couple of times I've called for you, I've decided to end this game of yours. I thought you were smart enough to know not to defy me, and recieve your punishment with honor, but I guess I was too naive." Marik said, walking closer to his bed in an agonizing slow pace. Quivering by now, the cat buried his nails deep into the lion and held his breath, because even though he knew Marik would pull him out, he couldn't go out by himself.

"Right. I take it you want the rough treatment then-" The Egyptian said calmy, and Bakura felt a palm wrap painfully hard around his ankle, squeezing, as if to tell him it was alright. Panic bubbling to the surface, Bakura kicked out with a desperate cry, pulling back, but the older man was much stronger. He twisted, heart picking up a pace as he clawed at the floor, trying to prevent what was happening the best he could.

"Bakura, stop behaving like a child! Let go immediatly!" Marik snarled angrily, having dragged the cat halfway out from under the bed, and grabbing at his shirt for better leverage. Proceeding to kick and struggle, Bakura sobbed hopelessly, seeing the distance between him and the bed increasing with every second. He needingly threw his arms around the legs of the bed, gripping at it so hard his knuckles grew white. The Egyptian growled, sounding more annoyed than angry, and before Bakura realized there was no one touching him, he was grabbed by the back of his shirt, and forced quite roughly to his feet. It took him a moment to regain his focus, staring up at the furious expression of his owner.

"You are awful for making me go through this, do you know that?" Marik muttered, grasping the cats face hard enough to leave marks. They remained quiet for a while, the frantic breaths from Bakura being the only thing to break their silence.

"I-I'm sorry." Bakura croaked, the sound barely audible and choked down a sob. Cooeing softly to the cat and nuzzling his cheek affectionately, Marik hummed, his fingers reaching down to wrap around the others wrist.

"I know you are." He said nonchalantly, pulling gently in the frail wrist. The cat whined quietly, shook his head and stood firm.

"I'm sorry!" He repeated desperately, praying that he could avoid Marik's wrath if he sounded sincere enough. His apology went past the Egyptian however, who merely pulled harder in him, just the right amount to make him stumble a couple of steps forward. Bakura whined and pleaded, digging his heels into the wooden floor when he felt another tug in his arm, nearly ripping it off it's joint.

"Bakura!" The Egyptian snarled at him, grabbing the front of his shirt and seized a handful of hair in the other hand, yanking it with force and made the cat follow along, despite his attempts to stand his ground. "Stop, right now! Or so help me, I am going to make you!"

Shivering at the tone of those words, Bakura swallowed, silent for less than a second, before it became apparent that he hadn't been forgiven, and was picked up quite easily. Bucking, kicking and screaming, the cat tirelessly fought back with all he mustered, even if it seemed hopeless, seeing how it merely slowed the process down. What process he was slowing, he wasn't sure of, but he was determined that it wasn't anything he'd strive for later on.

Breathing heavily, clearly annoyed, the older man dragged him into the hall, pausing briefly to look at him, with a very certain look in his eyes that Bakura hadn't seen before.

"I'm not in the mood for this anymore, you're old enough now." Marik said simply, making his way to his own bedroom, abrubtly coming to a halt when Bakura's palms wrapped around the doorframe.

"Old enough to do what?" The cat questioned, the shiver running down his spine tellling him to have kept quiet.

"To understand." Came his short answer, and wrenching the nimble fingers off the wooden frame, Marik carried Bakura to his bed, starting to have slight trouble with keeping the young teen still.

Remaining quiet, but far from relucant, Bakura tried to figure out the meaning of what he was told. He couldn't for his life understand why Marik was acting like he was, and why he was being taken to the bedroom, it wasn't meant for arguing in, it was meant to sleep in. And just as soon as his back hit the matress and soft silk, he suddenly felt much calmer.

Realizing that the storm had ceased, Bakura breathed out, fear induced goosebumps still evident on his skin. He gently rubbed at his arms, trying to rid himself of them and glanced at the older male, still feeling confused as to why he felt such a sudden rage, but decided not to question him. Glancing at the Egyptian, he smiled weakly, uncertain of how to act now, but obediently crawled under the covers, and promtly closed his eyes. They just needed to sleep now, and Marik would be better later on, of course he needed some rest. Bakura clutched a handful of the silken sheets, waiting for his Master, but instead of slipping in at his side, he sat down, right next to him.

Rolling around and looking back up at him, Bakura meekly coiled around the other body, flinching when he felt a hand reaching beneath the covers.

"You are such a confusing little thing." Marik muttered, and Bakura noticed his eyes were fixated on something between his stomach, and knees, and the look in them was making the odd feelings return. Modestly shifting, Bakura frowned, not wanting to be touched there at a time like that. It was time to sleep, he didn't need to get in that 'mood'.

"Hm. Lay down with me..." The cat whispered, swallowing uncertainly.

"No. Because we aren't going to sleep, I'm going to show you something." Marik responded truthfully, gently tugging the sheets off of the cat, climbing on top of him before he could object.

As soon as he noticed the sudden lack of space between them, Bakura feebly grabbed at the others wrists, wanting to get underneath them and slip out. He huffed, becoming more persistent when the older man denied him his escape, and gradually began to feel more and more like they weren't going to do anything good.

"M-Marik, I really want to go now!" He insisted sternly, desperately swatting the others hand away, having felt it in quite an unusual place. But despite his efforts, his wrists were pinned down, hard enough to bruise the fair skin.

"You're not going anywhere, you're old enough to see what happens when you misbehave Bakura. You deserve it." Marik explained, barely looking at the cat as he tried to yank the shirt off the other, sounding a bit too irritated by the resistance he was met with. Relucantly, Bakura stayed still, whatever punishment he deserved sounding better than having to try and escape it. And perhaps, from seeing the sudden submission, Marik grinned, ruffling through his hair.

"That's better." The Egyptian stated, moving away from him to rummage through the nightstand. Absently rubbing goosebumps off his legs, Bakura swallowed the lump in his throat as he watched the Egyptian retrieving two silken scarves from the drawer. He then, unconciously turned his attention to the pair of sciccors which were brought up soon after, followed by a small vile with something in it. Shaking it, and looking like it was an experiment, Marik threw at the cats side, indifferently snipping the scarves in halves.

"Stay put, I'll be finished in a moment."

"Finished with what?" Bakura asked timidly, cursing himself for letting his throat shrivel up like that, and make his voice so frail.

"Oh you'll see. Right now, actually." Marik responded, glancing back at him, smirking. He leant over him, a finger poking beneath the rim of his shirt. Shifting uncomfortably, Bakura shyed away, laying his shirt flat against his stomach. The Egyptian sighed, grabbing his wrists in one hand, and tugged up the fabric with ease, till he could tear it off the cat, going for the shorts afterward.

Feeling fingers where they weren't supposed to be once more, Bakura fought the urge to lash out, his whole body trembling as he let the older male do as he pleased, and tug down the shorts, leaving him painfully naked. Marik purred, making the cats brows furrow in confusion. He couldn't understand those moodswings, even if he tried to, and he certainly couldn't understand why he needed to be undressed either.

"See, it's much easier if you just co-operate with me." The Egyptian commented, leaning down to rest on his elbows, mere inches from the cats face. Bakura looked off, heat rising to his cheeks. He held back a threatening whine, spurred on by a finger running along the inner part of his legs.

"Look at me." Marik whispered, and for a moment, the cat considered it, but ended up angering the Egyptian once more as he turned away, feeling frigthened by the intimacy.

"I told you to look at me!" The older man demanded, grasping him by the jaw so hard he thought it'd break. They stared at each other for a moment, before their lips met, in a harsh, bruising kiss. Bakura struggled, despite being pinned down, with all he could muster, his scream swallowed by the others mouth.

What was going on?

Toes curling and tail bristling into a thick bunch, Bakura pushed, shoved and scratched at Marik's shoulders. And before he could react, they'd parted, and Marik raised his hand before him, at a very dangerous angle. Bakura bit his lips to keep them from quivering, fairly certain of what was going to happen, and gasped brokenly, when the others fist collided painfully with the front of his face. Searing hot rivulets of blood began flowing, down his cheeks along with his tears, and onto the sheets, permanently staining them. Trembling violently as the pain finally got through to him, Bakura screamed, his hands flying up to cover his face, but the older man snatched his wrists, pinning them down. The cat cried and spluttered, barely able to breath through the bloody mess, and shrieked, pain induced tears joining onto the surface beneath him.

"Stop resisting, or I'll do much worse." Marik whispered, dragging his nails down the others chest in an agonizing slow pace. Long red welts rose to the surface, matching the blood already covering most of the cat's face, and some of his hair. He whimpered, feeling nausious from blood loss already, or maybe it was merely the sight of it, or perhaps the escusiating pain.

"S-st-" The young teen stumbled across his own words, choking on the metallic substance and stared up at those lilac orbs, wanting-Needing comfort. It didn't matter that Marik had been the one to inflict the pain, he just needed someone to make it go away.

"Don't. Fight me." He was told, and for a moment, Bakura held still, quivering, crying and positively sure that he'd drown in the blood trailing down his throat if he didn't move soon.

"But, I said I'm sorry." Bakura whispered brokenly, tasting iron between his lips and feebly latched onto the others clothing, trying to prevent his fingers from going _down there._ But, in hindsight, he should've seen it coming because of what he did. The older man was allowed to be furious, he'd been so horrible.

"I know. I've heard it multiple times. Now shut up, and do as you're told, or I swear, I will make you sorry." Marik murmered, grabbing the cat by the knee and urged him to turn around, his back facing him. Hesitantly, Bakura did it, shifting and buried his face into a pillow. As soon as he did, Marik's hands returned, touching him so possesively, along his shoulderblades all the way to his tail.

"Bakura, I'm disappointed in you." The Egyptian said, breathing onto his neck. He hummed, sending shivers down Bakura's back, and ran his fingers up his legs.

"I know, I apoligize!" His soon-to-be victim cried into the fluffy comforter, terrified of the one person he'd trusted the most. Bakura whined and whimpered, effectively staining his cheek in a hopeless attempt to try and calm himself down.

"It's not enough just being sorry. No matter how many times you tell me, it won't make me cease the punishment. I believe you, oh I do, don't think I don't. You're obviously regretting what you did, but like I said-You're old enough to understand the concequences of your acts." Marik whispered, covering the cats bottom with a palm and gave it a firm slap, emitting a muffled cry from him.

"And, despite your struggling, and resistance, I choose to believe that you** do **understand. You understand why I have to do like I do, it's simple. When you disobey, I'll have to do something, it's just like that story you like to have read at night. Red ridinghood. The girl in the story does exactly like you, she doesn't listen to her guardian, even though they warned her. And what happens? - She gets punished Bakura, and they were only trying to help her, just like I'm trying to help you. Because when you don't listen, I'll have to be strict with you." The Egyptian spoke, lips trailing across pale skin.

"But, she is eaten-And the story ends with a **happy **ending." Bakura mumbled carefully and soon heard the elder chuckle lightly.

"Yes, I know, I'm not going to eat you, it was an example. You ought to know that" He countered, a finger tracing teasingly up and down against a rather private area to the cat, one that hadn't ever been touched in such a manner. Bakura mewed uncertainly as the digit pressed, as if wanting entrance. He was just about to cry out in protest, when he was flipped around to the Egyptian, staring up at him, frightened from this new foreign touch he was given.

"Listen, I'm going to kiss you now, and I'll reward you if you're well behaved." Marik whispered against his mouth, quietly undressing himself and nibbled curiously at the cats lower lip. Unsure what he meant by 'well behaved', Bakura cringed as the others toungue slid out to lick off the large blooded areas on his face. He whimpered and whined, horrified when he was kissed again and stirred beneath the larger male, not liking the way his leg was hoisted around Marik's waist.

"Don't resist." The Egyptian demanded, much to the cats disappointment. He snarled, fumbling at their side, and snatched the thin wrists, Bakuras innocent pleas lost on him, as he reached up and tied one of them to the bed pole. Tying the other to the opposite side, he glared at the cat, those brown doe eyes pooling over with tears.

"I hate that I have to restrain you like this." Marik apoligized, his frown deepening.

"Then please let me go, please, please, I promise I'll be good!" The cat cried in hopeless desperation, kicking and bucking as he noticed Marik's judging stare drifting down his terribly naked form. Smiling faintly, the older man laid on top of him, dragging his nails along those flawless thighs, raising red welts to the surface.

"Hnn-Marik, you're hurting me!" Bakura wheezed, flailing like a fish out of water, despite of the tight knots the Egyptian had made around his wrists. Growling angrily, Marik grasped his ankles, barely dodging an incoming kick with an inch.

"I thought I told you to stop resisting." He muttered calmy, pinning the cat down and looping his ankle into the silken scarves, before tying it to the end of the bed. Bakura sobbed and cried, watching his last functioning limb get restrained to a bare minimum, endlessly spouting out apoligees. Stroking his cheek in a manner that would've normally comforted him, the Egyptian ran his free hand along the underside of silken legs, to an area he'd seemed quite fond of so far.

"There's no need to be frightened, my kitten. You know-" Marik began, leaving sloppy kisses down Bakura's neck, in a trancelike state. "All those times I've told you to stay in bed, because I had a female guest, I was only wishing that I could do these things to you, like I could to **them**."

Pulling halfheartedly at his bonds, Bakura mentally struggled to find a better way of voicing his obvious discomfort, without setting off the Egyptian. He tried laying still, but this only fueled the older man in making him squirm some more. He tried to beg, unfortunately, it was to deaf ears. He even tried to enjoy what Marik was doing to him, but he couldn't, it made him so nauseous and disgusted.

"I don't like it Marik, and I don't-"

"Shhh, kitten, you **deserved** it after all."

"But I **don't** like it, why won't you listen!" Bakura cried, shivering as he felt a warm finger catching one, of many tears by his cheek.

"I don't **need** to do anything you tell me, other than where you'd like for me to put my toungue first." Marik whispered, a vague tone of sadness in his voice.

"Nowhere, I don't want-" The little cat began, cut off by a hand that smacked on top of his mouth.

"Legs it is then." Said the Egyptian, sounding content with his decision. Bakura struggled to breathe, the mere scent of Marik making him so terribly afraid. He glanced down, watching the other disappear down south, he suddenly felt another hand clutch tightly around his calf.

Muffling a frantic apology against the tan palm, Bakura kicked the best he could, Marik's lips on his skin having caught him off guard. Letting out a throaty chuckle, the Egyptian continued, laying warm, wet kisses all the way up his legs, till he reached a certain area. Bakura breathed in uncertainly, his vision partially blocked by saltwater, and tried to focus on what Marik was doing next. He could see Marik was looking at him, but not for long.

"I should've done this a long time ago." Marik said absently, removing his palm and cooed softly to the cat, when he burst into desperate gasps. He held the other's thin legs apart with one hand, grabbing the vile, that had remained useless up until now, and forced the top off it.

"I can't feel my hands anymore Marik, please untie them, please." Bakura asked halfheartedly, having braced himself for the no that he was sure of recieving.

"No, not yet my kitten. I'll have these changed though, in the nearest future so you won't have to go numb for too long." Said the other male, gesturing towards his makeshift restraints. Frowning, he brushed a bang from his face, and locked eyes with the little cat as he laid on top of him.

"Now...Behave like you should, close your eyes and bite your cheeks if it hurts too much." Marik informed him nonchalantly, doing something with his hands, and Bakura watched him carefully, his stomach in knots as he Marik led a palm down between his legs.

Confused, as to what the older man was doing, Bakura stared at him, feeling a few strands of hair tickle at his thighs, and a strange, wet sensation press against him. Blushing into various shades of red, the little cat voiced his distress in the form of a quiet whine. It soon became apparent that it was one of the Egyptian's fingers, threatening to go **in,** and no matter what he'd be told, he was sure he didn't like it. Marik looked back at him, as if trying to comfort him, as he fully slid in the digit, watching Bakura's eyes overflow with tears, in complete silence.

"I know." He commented quietly, withdrawing for a small moment, before pushing back in, Bakura making a shrilled cry from the action.

Embarresed, and removed of his dignity, more than ever before, Bakura stared at Marik, horrified, his body cold and rigid. He whimpered, fighting with himself to swallow the lump in his throat, but couldn't, what Marik did to him having silenced him completely.

Bakura parted his lips, to object, but found it too hard to speak, wordless protests being the only thing to pass through. Crying, he tried to crumple his body together in agony, but Marik was on top of him, keeping him in place and tormenting him in such a shameful way.

The little cat moaned in pain, the pounding in his skull still lingering. He winced, wanting to focus on that pain, and not the one pooling at his waist and below, when a second of Marik's fingers joined in. Bakura closed his eyes, twitching and wincing for every knife-like intrusion he recieved. He breathed in uncertainly, wanting Marik to withdraw and keep to himself, the feeling too foreign for him to accept.

"Kitten **relax**, you're being too tense." Marik commented softly, kissing his way up the pale chest and biting at his neck, playfully.

Not sure how to respond, Bakura remained quiet, tired, and worn out of those fingers by now. They hurt so terribly, and they scraped and they scratched, and made him feel so sleepy, and filled up. He wailed, the urge to cover his mouth growing larger with every pitiful whine he let out.

Finding comfort in the other for a split second, when Marik's lips graced across his, Bakura opened his mouth, hoping to voice out his hatred. But was it really hatred? He was so used to being knocked around, but he'd always be forgiven no matter what, and the slate had been whiped clean, that was Marik's logic. Then why was it so, so terribly different this time.

"If you're good, I'll consider loosening these. Your wrists are turning blue already." Marik said lowly, one hand grabbing at the cats jaw. Bakura stared back, incomprehensibly begging him to please, please just let him go. The Egyptian halted briefly, jabbing into the cat harder than before, earning himself a frightened shriek.

"I'm going to untie your arms now. So kiss me back, while I do." Bakura was told, and being as obedient as he possibly could in his position, he forced his lips open, not sure how to kiss like he was meant to. Leaning down and drawing a warm, wet toungue along the others jawline, Marik finally clamped his mouth on top of Bakura's again. Too quickly for the cat's likings, he swept in, slowly but steadily coaxing the other's toungue into his own mouth, biting down on Bakura's toungue and making him cringe.

Bakura whined, barely able to breathe through the kiss, and from Marik's weight pressing down on him. He mentally sighed, feeling one of the restraints at his wrists gradually loosening up around the limb. As soon as the fabric fell to the floor by their side, he shivered, the blood flow returning too fast for it to be comfortable. His whole hand went numb for a few moments, all the while Marik was occupying himself by shoving his toungue into Bakura, switching the roles. The little cat clenched his free hand, feeling like he was going to suffocate if Marik didn't withdraw very soon.

Eventually, the older man pulled away, licking a wet trail up the side of his face, and contiued to tirelessly finger the lithe, delicate body beneath, meeting little resistance in him by now.

Closing his eyes, Bakura tried to understand what was going on, physically at least. But as much as he tried, all those books, and all those things he'd been told, couldn't explain to him why Marik was doing this to him, and why he felt so wrong.

"What are you going to do to me?" He finally managed to whisper, his voice raspy and broken. Marik glanced at him, releasing his other wrist, and gently rubbed the skin there, a malicious look on his face.

"I'm going to have sex with you of course, and even though I know you're going to put up a magnificent struggle, we're going to do this, wether you want it or not." The Egyptian said, sparking Bakura's desire to get away even more. If he knew he was going to despise it, then why was he forcing him to do this. And what was sex, he'd never been explained what that even was!

Clenching his jaw, and grabbing the older mans shoulders, Bakura gave him a stern look.

"If you don't stop, I'll **hate** you." He whispered faintly, not liking the grin that spread on Marik's lips.

"Hm. You say so, but you know what? I know you love me, you **won't **be angry with me. Because you love me. I've done everything for you, and like a tiny little kitten, I've earned your unconditional love, because I've been so persistent. Now, even though it makes me a bit irritated that you'd consider telling me this, I understand. But no matter what, you'll love me, and you'll forgive me." The Egyptian purred happily, drawing his fingers out of Bakura's in a long, fluid motion, that gave the little cat goosebumps.

"What is 'love?' [1]" Bakura questioned breathlessly, watching as Marik got comfortable between his legs. He'd seen that word thrown around in books so many times, and when Marik said it, it was as if he twisted the whole meaning of it. The last thing he wanted to do was like Marik back, he wanted him to stay away, and stay away forever.

"You already know that, don't play stupid. Now say that you love me." Marik countered, sounding agitated.

"No."

"Say that you love me Bakura, or I'll make this the worst thing that could possibly happen to you."

Refusing to succumb, Bakura remained as strong as he could, ignoring Marik's unnerving laughter. He knew he was annoying him, he just wasn't sure how much.

"Bakura, say it." Marik repeated calmy, straining to put on a smile.

"No." The cat whispered, so quietly he barely heard it himself.

"I know you do, so stop playing around and **say it!**"

Feeling Marik's breath on his face, Bakura struggled to seem unfazed, trying to keep his eyes from flickering nervously.

"No!" He squeaked loudly, taken by surprise by a fist that slammed down, inches from his face.

"Say it!" Marik sneered, seizing him by the shoulders and clenching his palms together so tight it made the little cat cry even harder.

"Now, say it Bakura, I **won't **ask again!

Feebly covering his chest, Bakura swallowed, trying to stop shaking so much. "N-no."

"Goddammit Bakura, I told you to do something, now do it! Say it!" Marik pressed on, his voice so loud and angered it echoed down the hall.

"No Marik!" Bakura screamed in frustration, scared that the fist that missed the first time, was going to hit dead on.

"**Say it!**" The Egyptian snarled, nails burrowing their way into Bakura's skin till they drew blood, and made little red welts rise to the surface. Terrified, Bakura opened his mouth, stuttering and whimpering several words, but none that sounded like what Marik asked him to say. He curled his arms around the front of his face as much as he possibly could, trying to so hard to speak.

"I-I don't know what it means properly." Bakura excused, so afraid that Marik would lash out again.

"Yes. You do. Now** say** you love me!"

Panicking, and grasping at Marik's palm that seemed too close to his neck, the little cat squirmed, feeling terribly warm everywhere.

"Okay!-I love you-I love you Marik, **please **let me go, I'm scared!" He cried, not quite sure if the content look on Marik's face was good or not. A hand slid between his legs, and Marik grasped him by his upper thighs, keeping him angled in a horribly painful position. Bakura voted for 'not'.

"I can't do that just yet. We've barely begun." Marik lilted, Bakura's violent, ragged gasps spurring on the other male. Biting his lips so hard he thought he'd break through the skin, Bakura waited, feeling something press against him** down there. **He was fairly certain that he knew exactly that it was, but he couldn't bring himself to aknowlegde what was happening. His body went rigid as he braced it for whatever was coming, and he was still for what seemed to be en eternity, before finally, a quick sharp entry was made. Parting his closed lips in an ear piercing scream, Bakura clasped his palms onto Marik's shoulders, sharp nails scratching up the tan skin brutally. He coughed, feeling as if he was going to choke on the air. Shock, humilation, and that damned betrayal, all came crashing onto him like heavy landfill.

And the pain, that horrible warm, agonizing pain that came so quickly, and so fiercely that he felt like he was going to be ripped apart.

His throat raw from screaming, Bakura slammed his fists into the others back, so angry and so scared that the only thing he wanted to do was get his frustrations out. He could deal with his confusion later.

"You need to be more quiet." Marik whispered into his ear, and Bakura swallowed hard, silently agreeing. It was better to try and dissolve into a lifeless shell for as long as he possibly could.

"Give me your wrist." He was asked, and hesitating for less than a second, Bakura held up an arm. He felt tan fingers wrapped around it, a thumb pressing into the artery and the cat held down a strangled cry, as a hand twined in his hair, jerking his head back and pulling so hard that a few strands disappeared in the process.

"I'm kind of satisfied with the choices you made today, I've needed a proper excuse for this, for so long." Marik announced, sucking on Bakura's ear, the blunt surface of his teeth bruising them and left wet marks along his neck.

"If you hadn't messed up so badly, I still would've waited, and waited, and I was going insane by the tension, I just needed a reason." He said, and for moment, Bakura didn't breathe, infuriated.

"What tension." The cat inquired, meeting the others eyes squarely and wondered why Marik didn't move.

"A somewhat...Disturbing tension-" Marik began, releasing Bakura's white tresses and braced his hand on the matress, bucking his hips slowly, as if to lessen the pain brought to the cat's tiny frame. "You smell so good, and you are so ripe, and this is so **wrong-**but oh so right."

Closing his eyes and quickly deciding that this was** only wrong,** nothing more, and braced his mind for the next thrust, a low squeel coming from his lips.

"What is it?" The older man asks, sounding antagonizing to Bakura. "Say something."

"N-n..No." Came Bakura's timid response, too confused and angry to say a thing.

"Then I will make you. I will **make** you enjoy this Bakura, because I'm just** that** generous." Marik said, his voice calm and demanding. And just like he was told, it wasn't long till Bakura felt Marik's grip tighten around him, fingers digging into his hipbones, and that unbearable **heat **returning with such violent force he screamed.

"Yesss, cry for me my little one." The Egyptian, resembling a venoumous serpent, laughing over the sound of Bakura's agonized screams. Brokenly, the cat coughed and spluttered, too unsettled and exhausted to talk back. Seeming angry with his silence, Marik snarled, placing an openmouthed kiss on the cats lips, biting and pulling at them.

Bakura weakly moaned, feeling those already painful thrusts grow increasingly rougher, and more violent, as he felt Marik tearing at his swollen lips. His teeth went through them a few places, making the cat taste iron, saliva and salt, from his own infernal tears. He groaned loudly, his back, legs, arms and everything else aching so terribly. Marik sucked the blood off him greedily, and for a moment, he sounded desperate, before he snarled, and grabbed Bakura's arm, using it for better leverage. Slowly and hesitantly, Bakura opened his eyes, unconciously bringing the Egyptian closer to the edge, his expression groggy and sorrowful.

Growing quite numb in his lower region, Bakura thought about just how much blood he'd lost, though he doubted it was alot, he just felt so dizzy. He wanted to sleep so badly.

"Don't pass out on me." Marik suddenly seethed, gasping quietly. A hand knocking into the side of his face woke up Bakura from his momentary sleep, and he realized he must've passed out for just a few seconds. Nodding as much he could, a reflex that told him to just go follow orders making him do it.

"You need to stay awake, I'm almost done." Said the Egyptian through his bared teeth, grasping the cat by his neck and squeezed, earning himself a pair of strangled groans. His pace picked up, and he leant down, smearing his toungue over the others face in twisted perversion.

Bakura breathed out waveringly, turning his head away shyly, warmth spreading to his now, very damp face. He didn't know why Marik was so determined on keeping him awake, even though the chance of being able to sleep through the ordeal would be quite a task. It hurt so much, he could barely feel his legs, or toes, or anything lower than his hips, other than searing hot pain.

He twisted around meekly but found that he was too worn out to keep fighting, and he sluggishly fell back, repeating the same mantra of - "Pleasenodontplease", over and over again.

Through the whole ordeal, never ceasing for a moment, the little cat cried, as if it was just a nightmare he woke up from, every time that Marik 'punished' him. Eventually, there was a sudden determination in the Egyptian's eyes, and he looked just as exhausted as Bakura felt, perhaps it was almost over? He noticed a tinge of pride in the violet oblivions, unknowingly trembling, afraid of the outcome.

Snarling and biting into the boys shoulder in a wild frenzy, Marik gave one last, quick thrust as he reached climax, nails digging deep into pale skin. He moaned, long and deep, seeming to ignore Bakura's shocked state.

Opening his mouth to speak, the little cat waited, a warm and wet feeling pooling in between his legs. It stung so badly, and he trembled so much he couldn't even move anymore, he was so, so scared. And when he looked up, Marik seemed fairly content, he had such a relaxed expression on his face. For a long time, they were both quiet, Bakura's frantic breaths going into a steady rhythm, till Marik glanced down at him, frowning.

"Let's undo these." He murmered, as a matter of fact, purring as he withdrew from the body beneath him. Bakura groaned, struggling not to make a sound, even though there was something warm running out of him. Trying to focus on something else, he forced himself to watch Marik.

"My, you look tired." The older blond remarked, brushing a tuft of hair from his chocolate eyes. He turned around, indifferently untying the bonds on Bakura's ankles, starting with the left one. Caressing the limb lovingly before he let it go, Marik placed a few kisses on it, gently easing it down to his side.

"Marik...Why are you doing this to me." Bakura asked absently, the blood rushing back to his legs making him dizzy again. His head lolled to the side, and he let his eyes flutter closed, glad that it was partially over. There was no pain anymore, so he could cope.

"Because I can. And because we belong together, you and I, Bakura. Haven't I always taken care of you?"

The cat nodded slightly, sensing his right foot return to it's usual angle.

"Yes."

"And have I ever done you wrong?"

Bakura swallowed, too scared of the consequences that would come from lying.

"...No."

"Then, why are you sounding like you're accusing me of something? I treat you well, don't I? I feed you, and I spoil you, I make sure you're always warm, I kiss and I hug you – I love you. I do all of this, and I expect your graditude in return, at least. Do you understand?"

Nodding once more, and covering his face, Bakura clenched his fists, his chest hurting and his lips quivering. He didn't wish to look at Marik, or speak to him, or sleep in that bed, ever again. All he wanted was to be let go of, so he could go back to his room and hide. He didn't wish for Marik to either keep him warm, or give him things, he wanted to be left **alone**, _alone,_ alone. He'd done alright before he knew Marik, and he could run away if he wanted to.

But **where** would he even go? Did he **have **to?

"You look so haunted love." Marik murmered, touching Bakura up the side of his face, with such caution that the cat could barely understand it were the same hands that had moments ago, stripped and violated him.

"I think I know what it is." The Egyptian hummed, an eerie, playful tone returning in his voice. Bakura made a soft sound in the back of his throat, not sure what he wanted anymore. He twitched, feeling two fingers trace up the inner parts of his leg, towards his privates. And even though he wanted to run and hide, or tell Marik 'no', he lied still, unconsiously pressing his thighs together.

"I completely forgot about your needs too." He heard Marik say lowly, right before a large, warm palm grabbed his crotch, squeezing painfully hard. Bakura squealed, not used to being stimulated in such a way, and he knew he didn't like it, at least not this way.

"M-Marik, stop, s-stop please!" He shakily protested, seeing Marik's gaze grow sinister, before he was let go of, and his vision blackened for just a second, when the Egyptian had chosen to strike him across the face once more. Blinking furiously, the cat tried to regain his rational sense, finding that he was suddenly in an upright position, sprawled out in the older mans lap. He fell over, his forehead resting in the crook of Marik's shoulder, and moaned painfully, the throbbing in his head increasing.

"Why are you so **ungrateful**?" Marik questioned loosely, never bothering to listen those quiet objection, as he reached down, two fingers spreading Bakura open.

"Nouuu..." The cat pleaded, leaving a large moist spot on Marik's shirt. He shuddered inwardly, feeling Marik move him, into an awkward, uncomfortable position, and soon, heat tore through his lower region, making him groan.

Little by little, Marik set himself a pace, one that Bakura couldn't follow, and he merely clung to his neck, waiting for his torture to end. He only wanted to sleep, not do this again.

Bakura whispered something incomprehensible, something he didn't even understand himself, his eyelids fluttering closed from sheer exhaustion.

"You're so beautiful like this." He heard the Egyptian murmer into his ear, in time with the numbing jabs getting more erratic, and a moment later, the painful ordeal was over. The cat was rolled to the side, and even though he wanted to brace himself, Bakura slid unceromonically to the floor, sprawled out tiredly. He covered his face, not sure how much time passed, because when he opened his eyes once again, Marik was looming above him, fully clothed, and seemed slightly irritated. But the cat couldn't muster the strength to do anything.

"Bakura?" Marik asked, leaning down to grab him by the wrist.

"...Yes..." Bakura slurred, the throbbing in his head so intense that he could barely focus on anything by now. Not that he minded, the slightly blurry reality was better than the actual one after all.

"You can't sleep on the floor, it'll hurt your back, you know that." The Egyptian muttered as a matter of fact, his expression and tone back to the fatherly one that Bakura was so used to. And under normal circumstances, it would've the cat feel safe again, because then his punishment would be over, and Marik wouldn't hurt him. He just wasn't so sure he could count on that this time, not when he knew what Marik **could** do to him, but never had until today.

"I'm okay here..." Bakura insisted, mentally sighing, since Marik seemed to refuse, no matter what he told him.

"I think I know what's best for you, don't be stubborn." He crooned, making Bakura sick to his stomach with that calm attitude, when he'd just tugged him around like a raunchy plaything. The older man didn't notice, or maybe he didn't want to, seeing how he merely grabbed Bakura by the arm, pulling him from the floor like a ragdoll. And Bakura remained docile, acting like his skin didn't suddenly have goosebumps littering it.

"Let's get you your shirt, I don't want you sick." Marik placed Bakura on the edge of the bed, snatching said shirt from the floor, where it'd been discarded earlier.

"I can do it myself." The cat whispered, taking the single article and put it over his lap, covering up as much as he could.

"Okay, just don't get it messy." He was told, and Bakura nodded, the irony of those words making him angry. Marik threaded through the white locks, and gave his thigh a light slap.

"I'll be back in a few." Said the older male casually, turning and leaving into the bathroom just outside the hall.

Cringing as he raised his arms and slid on the shirt, Bakura straightened out the fabric, tugging it down over his legs. He shifted, one hand reaching up to touch the sore area around his nose, eyes and in short, his whole face. It stung, throbbed and burned all at once. Withdrawing his palm, he swallowed, the simple action of doing so hurting his throat more than it should. He felt somewhat curious to see how many colors he'd turn out tomorrow, even it was a morbid thought.

"Pull your hair back." A voice shook him from his musings, and Bakura forced his gaze up, looking at Marik who'd just returned, finding it slightly annoying that he had a wet cloth with him. But he obliged, hesitantly tugging his hair into a pony tail, with one hand, while the other hung loosely down his side.

"Now, look down." Marik said as he walked closer and knelt at Bakura's feet, grabbing the back of his neck tightly.

"You're hurting me." Bakura whispered, setting his free palm on Marik's shoulder and gently pushed.

"Kittens don't complain when their mother carry them, you shouldn't either." He was told, and Bakura did it, shutting his mouth again. Brushing the cat's fringe aside, Marik began to clean him, rubbing off all the dried and caked blood, chuckling whenever Bakura flinched or mewled in pain.

"Stop, I can do it myself!" Bakura squeeled, the force that Marik was using making him hurt more than it already did.

"I'm almost done, so don't snap at me." The Egyptian sneered, running the reddened, moist fabric along the crease of Bakura's brown eyes, his chin, and eventually, his neck. Seeming sattisfied with the result, he stood back up, went out to dispose of the cloth, while Bakura waited, his eyelids nearly fluttering closed. But before he could, Marik was already back, pushing him down into the matress.

"Now, I think it'd be best if you got yourself some rest. While I go clean up after you downstairs. How's that sound?" Marik asked, his breath ghosting across Bakura's neck, just briefly, grazed one of his corner teeth over the skin.

"But...I could also just stay here." He trailed off, letting a hand creep down Bakura's side and shifted, so his fingers brushed up against the crevice between those thin legs. Bakura muffled his protests, biding his time.

"I think I'll stay here." The older man announced calmy, laying the sheets over Bakura and covering him with them fully. He pulled him closer by the waist, and Bakura cringed, a painful spark shooting up his spine.

"Not so tight." Bakura told the Egyptian, and soon felt the pressure around his shoulder lessening, till it became bearable again. They stayed in the same position for several minuttes, and it was gradually getting more and more frustrating for the cat. He just wanted to get away, not be pressed against Marik like that, especially not with his hand **there**.

"There's no need to be so moody you know. I will buy you new things tomorrow, you can have whatever you'd like too. Give me a smile, I know you want to." Marik said slowly, looking at Bakura with such an expecting gaze. And relucantly, Bakura forced on a faint smile, pressing his toungue to the back of his teeth, and normally when he made such an expression, it was because of something good, not because he wanted to die, and just pleased Marik.

"That's better. Now...How's this up here." The Egyptian asked, running a fingertip along the bridge of Bakura's nose. "It's not broken, now is it?"

"...No." Bakura responded, barely thinking about how much his nose hurt. Everything hurt, so he couldn't distinct the different painful areas from each other, and if it helped to say no, then why not.

"We certainly wouldn't want that, now would we?" Marik cooed, pressing Bakura's body against his own.

"I'm uncomfortable." The cat wheezed, twisting as much as he could within the others arms, his personal space having been more than invaded. He'd been close to Marik, and yes, they'd brush up against each other occasionally, but it had never been intensional.

...At least from his side.

-_He wasn't so sure about Marik anymore. _

"Can't have that." Came his haughty answer, and Marik grabbed him by the hips, lifting him and rolling him onto his chest. Bakura relucantly laid his head down, not wanting to look into those dark eyes, he just wanted to relax, he could do that. He felt Marik grasp one of his calves, and put it down, so that his legs were on either side of the Egyptian.

"...No." Bakura mouthed, looking out the window. It wasn't even dark outside, and he even though he wanted to sleep, he was afraid of what was going to happen if he did. What if Marik was just testing him to see how long he'd last? And what if he snored and woke him up, or touched him while they slept.

"Now, close your eyes my love, and sleep. We've got things to do when you wake up." Marik ordered, and Bakura let his eyelids close hesitantly, slowly. He let out a fake yawn, feighning sleep as soon as he was able to. He waited patiently, wanting to cry so badly. The base of his tail was throbbing, his throat felt raw, and it felt like his insides were on fire.

Bakura shifted slightly, the previous incident repeating in his head over and over, several times, till he felt like throwing up. It was so confusing, he'd never meant for a simple scheme to blow up in his face the way it did, he'd just wanted to eat, and to be loved. Except, the kind of love Marik had for him hadn't been the same he expected, he wasn't even sure what it really meant. And he didn't know what Marik meant by 'having things to do', but something in the back of his mind told him that it was exactly what they had just been doing.

Coiling his tail around his leg, Bakura forced himself to relax, finally untensing all his taught muscles, and letting out a deep breath. He knew there was so much in store for him, even though his body couldn't take it, but he couldn't fight off Marik, and he wasn't planning to. There were many things he didn't understand, maybe Marik was just trying to help him grow up, he was far from an adult after all. It did hurt, and he did doubt the Egyptian, but he was sure to know best...

Right?

Licking his dry lips, the cat swallowed, thinking of how he'd go about tackling the next events he'd be exposed to. For a long while, he lay in his own trancelike stage, just pondering, of things he didn't even dare speak of. His body grew warm, and unbearable to be in, but he didn't move, he just waited, till he fell asleep, or passed out, whatever came first.

And even if he had been afraid of going to sleep, and feared what Marik was going to do to him, he appreciated **one** single thing.

No matter what happened, he knew that Marik wouldn't be there when he woke up _- He never was anyway. _

* * *

><p>[1]<em> : <em>Baby don't hurt me! (Sorry, i could not resist, tee hee~)

Questions about why Marik is such a damned sadist can be asked ... - Now! And questions about why I have such a fetish for abusing Bakura, can also be asked, even though I'll just say it's for fun. Hope people enjoyed it, It sure took me forever!_  
><em>


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